"Mom, Samantha steals stuff," he says. "Look, I found my clay turtle that I painted."

And though I don't like to think of my daughter as a pilferer, he has a point. In fact, this isn't the first time she's poached. Before I left for New York I couldn't find my concealer. I knew Samantha had to be behind the pinching.

"Samantha, did you take my new eye makeup?"

"What did it look like?"

"It's small, gold and shiny, and the top comes off."

"No, I didn't—maybe Joshua took it."

I had no proof. I was stuck.

So off to editor meetings in New York I went with an old lidless and cakey concealer.

A few days after I got back, I noticed a bump in Samantha's princess lunch sack. I opened the small pocket and there was my little makeup stick.

Then, last Saturday night I was getting ready to go out with Bobby and my golden tube was gone again. I asked Samantha and she said she didn't take it. But I've heard that one before.

I searched her toy cabinet, her hatboxes full of dress-up clothes, and scoured every nook and cranny of her play kitchen hoping to find my golden cylinder of concealer. Nothing.